


Crimson Heart

by Masu_Trout



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: Dark, Gen, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 15:09:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4965682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masu_Trout/pseuds/Masu_Trout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>At night, the center of its body slowly flickers with the same rhythm as a human heartbeat. </i><br/>               -Gold & Heartgold Pokédex entries</p>
<p>A boy catches his first Pokémon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crimson Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Written for someone who prompted Staryu-themed horror fic. I had a lot of fun with this one.

Staryu wasn't the boy's first pokémon. That honor belonged to a sentret his mother had trapped for him a few weeks before he turned ten. But staryu was his first caught pokémon; he'd pulled it from the riverbed himself with a net he'd borrowed from a fisherman upstream, and he and Senny had beaten it down together until it finally stopped struggling.

When the poké ball clicked and dimmed he'd thrown his hands in the air and howled with joy, so loud he scared a flock of spearow out of their tree. Any stupid kid could be _given_ a pokémon; it was catching one that truly proved you were capable of being a trainer. Of course he would be proud.

It was just... 

It was only that... 

No. There was no problem. The boy was a strong trainer – he was going to take on the Elite Four someday! He certainly didn't want to be stuck raising common, normal-type pokémon forever, and this catch was proof he could handle better. 

Staryu was just a bit strange, that was all. Nothing wrong with that.

At first, he'd tried to give Staryu a name. Star, maybe, or Terry or Yuu or Red. But the pokémon never reacted to any of them; the glow in its chest didn't dim or pulse for anything he said, only kept to the same steady beat. It had no mouth, no visible eyes. It wasn't like Senny, who the boy could read so easily.

Eventually, he gave up and just called it Staryu. It didn't seem to mind.

There were battles, of course – he was a serious trainer, after all. There had to be battles. He fought wild pokémon and fellow trainers alike. He took no notice of skill or experience; he'd challenge a twenty-year-old just as easily as he would a child his own age.

Mostly he lost, but that was okay. It just meant he would get stronger faster.

Sometimes the older trainers took pity on him and let him keep his money. It helped that he didn't have a lot – there was never more than a thousand in his pocket, just enough to buy dinner and maybe a room at the pokémon Center.

Often he didn't even have that. They did a lot of camping in those first few months.

Senny was easy – he would curl up near the boy's head or tuck himself under his chin. His weight was comforting during the cold nights. Staryu was a lot harder to figure out; it wasn't warm like Senny, and the sharp edges of its body made it uncomfortable to hold. After a few painful nights, he decided to let it lay on the bottom edge of his sleeping bag; he wasn't tall enough yet to stretch down that far, so it wasn't like he needed the room. Its pulsing gem made for a night-light of sorts; it would glow and dim and glow and dim the whole night through, a shifting red gleam that chased away the darkness inside the tent. The boy was never sure if it didn't sleep, or if it simply pulsed even while it was resting.

One night, a cold front hit. The boy had just enough for a bed in the Pokémon Center, but he hadn't thought he would need one – the air had seemed warm and his tent had been more than comfortable enough before.

Senny curled around him tighter than ever as he lay within his sleeping bag, trying to warm his trainer with his body. It helped, but it wasn't quite enough to let him sleep comfortably. Every time he thought he might be able to drift off, a cold gust would send him shivering back awake. Even the bird pokémon had gone somewhere warmer for the night; all the boy could hear was the rattling of the wind against the trees and the hurried thumping of his heart in his chest.

Staryu lay next to him, perhaps just a bit further away than usual. Maybe, the boy thought, it was trying to help him stay warm too, keeping as far from him as possible in order to not cool him down further. Or perhaps it just happened to settle a bit to the left. Its gem was gleaming as it always did, pulsing in a steady pattern: _bright-dim-bright-dim-bright-dim_ in an endless cycle.

His heart beat. The gem pulsed. And the boy threw himself out of his tent, wild with panic.

The air outside was so, so cold. It whistled right through his clothes and lingered in his bones. His pulse was rushing, and he had to clasp a hand over his mouth to keep from throwing up.

“Sen?” Senny called worriedly from inside the tent. He'd been thrown off when the boy rushed out.

The boy held one shaking hand to his chest, felt his heart beat wildly inside it. The beat that Staryu's gem had kept to perfectly, never lagging behind or jumping ahead or missing a single pulse. As if the two were connected together. As if his heart depended on his pokémon's core.

He laughed shakily. He was being ridiculous, of course. The boy was too old to be scared by silly stuff like that. Probably the scraping of the trees had left him nervous. If anything, he should be excited – surely this was proof that Staryu had accepted him as a trainer. It was so attuned to him that it was even matching his heartbeat.

(He tried to think back. Had Staryu's pulsing had ever changed, or had it been that way from the beginning? He couldn't remember. He decided not to think about it again.)

The boy walked back to the tent slowly. Senny jumped back on his shoulder the moment he stepped inside and nuzzled at his check.

He apologized to Senny in quiet, hushed tones. He was fine. There was no need to worry about him.

He zipped the tent up, got back under his blankets and curled up as best he could. Closed his eyes so that he couldn't see the patterns of light playing across the tent anymore.

Morning dawned bright and warm. In the light of day, with the bright sun dimming Staryu's light, the boy could only laugh at how afraid he'd been. He needed to stop listening to the older trainers' ghost stories.

Still, from that night on he kept Staryu in its poké ball while he slept.

\---

As months passed, the boy grew stronger. He added new members to his team: a spinarak named Web, a zubat named Betty. Senny evolved, becoming so big he could no longer fit on the boy's shoulder. Staryu fought with the same blank, faceless apathy as ever.

He branched out further. In Goldenrod City he won the Plain Badge and in Violet City he earned the Zephyr Badge. Each night he polished them, sitting in front of his tent and working to the light of the stars and Staryu's gem.

He still lost more than he won, but he won more than he used to. Sometimes the older trainers would give him compliments after they beat him. Each of those was worth more to him than both his badges combined.

Eventually, he decided to pass through Ilex Forest on the way to earn the Hive Badge. It was a shorter route than traipsing back through Violet City, and anyway it would help his team grow stronger. _Real_ trainers traveled through Ilex all the time.

The forest was dark and overgrown, wilder than any route he'd traveled before. Every so often he would see a pair of eyes peering from under a bush or hear the rustle as a pokémon dashed through the wilderness. Senny didn't like the place much – he wound himself close to the boy's legs and refused to fall even a step behind – but Web and Betty seemed right at home. Staryu... well, who could really tell with Staryu? There was plenty of fresh water about, so it couldn't be too unhappy.

The first three days in the forest, they saw no one but each other and the occasional wild pokémon. It was the closest the boy had ever felt to his team; they ate together, traveled together, fought together, rested together, and (except for Staryu, of course) all curled up together under the tent at night. 

On the fourth day, they met a trainer.

The trainer was older than the boy by at least seven or eight years. His clothes had been torn and patched and torn again and his hair looked tangled and dirty. The boy could tell he'd been training in this forest for a long time.

As the boy approached, the trainer looked up. Their eyes met through the gloom.

Immediately, the boy pulled a poké ball from his belt. It was a bit of a silly gesture – all his team members were already out of their poké balls – but the meaning was clear. He wanted to battle.

(Of course, he would lose. The boy had grown very good at knowing when he had no hope of winning. But he couldn't back down from a fight if he wanted to keep improving.)

“Are you sure?” the trainer asked, grinning. It wasn't a friendly grin. “I don't go easy on kids.” 

The boy didn't bother with a response. He wasn't going to be intimidated.

“Okay, sure. Let's do this. Typhlosion, go!”

The pokémon that burst from the poké ball had claws like knives and a ring of fire circling its collar. Its body was so hot that the boy could feel it where he stood; patches of dry leaves near its feet curled and smoked when it walked.

The boy nodded to himself. There was only once choice against a pokémon like that.

Staryu took the field, limbs twitching with an alien sort of grace. It had grown much bigger since he'd caught it, and its glow lit the forest around them with a soft lcrimson ight.

“Bite, Typhlosion!”

Straryu dodged deftly, slipping just out of range of the pokémon's needle-sharp teeth, and retaliated with a jet of water to the typhlosion's face.

It snarled in pain as the attack connected, shaking its head back and forth. It should have been a glancing blow – there was no way Staryu could seriously damage such a skilled pokémon with an attack like that – but when the hissing steam cleared from around its head the boy could see something was wrong.

The typhlosion was _angry_.

It snarled again, louder than before, and launched itself towards Staryu. Its front paws caught two of its limbs, its back another two, and the fifth it bit down on. 

“Typhlosion, stop!” the trainer called. “That's enough!”   
The typhlosion didn't seem to hear its trainer. Its dark eyes shone, reflecting the firelight and the gem's glow, as it reared up and began to tear Staryu apart. 

For a moment, the boy stood frozen; the scene seemed unreal. Staryu didn't move, didn't even struggle as typhlosion's teeth and fangs tore viciously into its limbs. Then, finally, one of its arms tore away from its core with a sick, wet sound. A deep hum resonated from the pokémon's chest as the typhlosion flung the shredded limb away. The light in Staryu's gem stuttered and dimmed as a clear ooze began to seep from the stump.

Senny shrieked in anger and launched itself at the typhlosion. His teeth sank into the monster's forelimb and his powerful hind legs dug deep gashes into its torso.

The typhlosion howled, letting go of Staryu as it tried to escape the attack. 

The boy cheered, watching it stumble backwards. It was panicked and thrashing around wildly– its trainer would be able recall it now.

But the trainer was frozen still, even more afraid than his pokémon. His hand was wrapped loosely around the typhlosion's poké ball, but he made no attempt to use it.

With a high, vicious scream, the typhlosion lashed out and caught the end of Senny's tail in its claws. Senny clung in deeper, pressing as tight as he could to the beast's body. It made no difference – the typhlosion pulled him free without so much as a wince, not even caring about how its own flesh tore.

Senny had just enough time for one panicked yelp before the typhlosion's jaws closed around his throat.

That, finally, spurred the trainer into action. A beam of red light cut through the gloom, pulling the typhlosion back within its poké ball. Blood and scraps of brown fur dropped to the forest floor as the monster disappeared.

“Listen,” the trainer said. He licked his lips. His whole body was trembling – the boy could see his fingers shake and twitch. “Don't... don't you dare tell anybody about this. Just because you couldn't-” the trainer took a shuddering breath. He held the poké ball as far from his body as possible, as if it would burn him. 

_Didn't you know this would happen?_ the boy wanted to ask. _Did your really think your pokémon was tame?_

“Don't blame me for your pokémon being weak.” The trainer's eyes glistened wetly in the dim light. “If you hadn't challenged me, none of this would have happened, okay?”

The boy didn't move, didn't speak. All he could see were the tattered pieces of Senny.

Without another word, the triner turned and disappeared into the forest. His footsteps picked up into a lurching, stumbling run before fading away entirely.

The boy was alone.

He dropped to his knees on the forest floor, feeling dry leaves crunch underneath him. Web and Betty had disappeared somewhere back into the forest. The boy didn't blame them – they were new to his team still and didn't have any of Senny's stupid, suicidal loyalty. This forest would be a safe enough place for them, at least.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed there – a few hours, maybe, or perhaps only a couple of minutes. He didn't have the energy to check.

Eventually, he realized something was wrong.

It wasn't a sudden realization, no bolt of lightning out of the blue, just a slow dawning thought that Ilex Forest wasn't quite as dark as it should be. Whenever he set up tent, it would be so dim he could barely see his face in front of his hands – he shouldn't still be able to see Senny's blood on the underbrush.

The boy blinked and looked over slightly to where Staryu's gem was still softly glowing.

He stumbled towards his pokémon, barely able to believe what he was seeing. He'd watched the typhlosion rip his pokémon apart. He'd seen its limbs go flying. There was no way it should have been able to survive that.

One limb was missing entirely; the boy could see it lying a few feet away. The other four were barely attached, nothing more than a few scraps of spongy flesh connecting them to the core. A sap-like fluid pooled around each of its broken stumps.

And yet it glowed as it always had, its gem matching the slow thumping of the boy's heart. As he watched, small strands of brown flesh built on top of the jagged wounds, slowly rebuilding the missing arms.

He called Staryu's name softly as he reached out to run one finger across its core. The dimness of the gem hadn't diminished its beauty; if anything, it looked more dazzling than it had before.   
The boy stared into it, feeling his horror and numbness strip away as he lost himself within its depths.

Since that night in the tent so many months ago, the boy had avoided staring into Staryu's gem. He couldn't remember why he had, though, not when it was so beautiful. He could see himself within the gem, reflected and fragmented: his heart, beating fierce and hot. His hands, holding a new set of poké balls – a new team, stronger and fiercer than anything he'd trained before. His body, growing lean and wiry and sharp as he trained. His mouth, yelling out commands, telling his pokémon to tear the trainer apart, destroying him the same way the trainer had destroyed Senny. 

The boy blinked. He hadn't realized his heart was racing, but Staryu's gem was pulsating as fast as he'd ever seen it.

Could he really have that? He'd never been a prodigy, the sort who could effortlessly win a battle. Could he really become that powerful?

Staryu didn't speak. Couldn't speak. But in the pulsing of its core the boy saw a yes. 

Follow me, it said, and you can have whatever you want.

The boy stood, turning his back to Staryu. He walked back to where he'd fallen and picked up the backpack he'd dumped on the ground. A quick shake sent Web and Betty's poké balls tumbling out, along with most of his potions, extra poké balls, and rations. Once it was empty, he turned to where the pieces of Senny littered the forest floor.

It was slow going. There was so very little left whole, and what he managed to pick up would more often than not fall apart in his hands. He kept at it, though, sifting slowly through the debris. Once he'd collected all he could, he clipped his backpack shut and shouldered all that was left of Senny.

There was still one poké ball clipped to his belt – Staryu's. He walked back over and knelt in front of it.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay. Tell me what I have to do.”


End file.
